


We Live.

by thewhiterose3



Category: V for Vendetta (2005)
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 18:04:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewhiterose3/pseuds/thewhiterose3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We live, Mr. Finch. No more hiding, no more cowering. Now we get to live.” Her reply, though eloquent, is not enlightening in the least.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Live.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Carmilla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmilla/gifts).



Parliament is burning, exploding, Evey Hammond is waxing poetic about how V was and is and ever will be all of us, and all Eric can think is “what happens now?”. Three hundred sixty five days of waiting and expecting and now it is over, finished. England now lacks a government building, presumably a chancellor, and in exchange has gained hope, freedom.  
  
And hope is necessary, transcendent, but hope does not govern or feed or make foreign policy decisions. V nearly single handedly toppled an empire, but there is nothing left to take its place. Ever since the outbreak, since Sutler wormed his way into office, there has been no one else. There have been no elections or opposing political parties or voiced opinions in opposition. Anyone who dared stand immediately disappeared into one of Creedy’s black bags. So yes, Eric never truly believed in Sutler’s “better” future for England or Prothero’s posturing, but there needs to be something. Strict tyrannical control is not the answer, but neither is anarchy.  
  
“What happens now, Ms. Hammond?,” Eric hears himself say before he consciously decides to address her. She turns, and all he can think is that this is not the girl who stood scared and confused next to a gesticulating V as the Bailey blew. She is not even the same girl who made a snap decision to defend V and pepper spray Dominic. This is another creature entirely.  
  
“We live, Mr. Finch. No more hiding, no more cowering. Now we get to live.” Her reply, though eloquent, is not enlightening in the least.  
  
“And who will lead this new freer world? Who will ensure the safety and well being and basic human necessities of all those people? Who will make sure that another Sutler does not rise now that the position is vacant? Will you, Ms. Hammond? Was that his plan?,” Eric cannot help gesticulating, encompassing the crowd that is no doubt happily watching their past burn, the entire country with a wave of his arm. “When that fire dies, there will not be a bright perfect future, Ms. Hammond. There will be ash, there will be ash and potential, and a vacuum. Power vacuums are dangerous.” For just a moment, her gaze wavers as she closes her eyes as if in memory.  
  
“My name is Evey, Mr. Finch. And V’s vision ended with him. That choice, the choice of what to do now, belongs to us.” She too seems to encompass the entire country in her reply. Eric can no longer restrain the anger, the bitterness and betrayal of being just another pawn in V’s game. Playing his part dutifully as he tore down the world as Eric knew it leaving chaos in its place.  
  
“You didn’t answer the question, _Evey_. Who exactly do you mean by us? Are you going to be our next high chancellor? Did V groom you to be the bloody phoenix to rise from the ash and _save_ us all?,” the sneer that Eric cannot control crescendos on the word save. Who is she? Who is this creature that used to be a girl, that used to be a shining example of what can be taken from you, what does she know about saving? As his words sink in, Evey’s irrationally calm demeanor hardens, cools.  
  
“No. He did not groom me. He did not create a vacuum, as you say, just to choose what went into its place. They took from him and so he took from them. Its that simple. He wanted a world where there were no others as monstrous as he. V did not have all the answers. He did not fix everything. But at least he did something, _Chief Inspector_.” Her ice, like his sneer, does not brim, does not break where it should. Her ice indicates him, rises at his title. He did nothing. How many times did he parrot back ‘England Prevails’ at Sutler’s command? How many times did he keep his eyes and ears and mouth shut in fear of Creedy’s black bags? V’s vision may have been woefully short sighted, but it was not nothing.  
  
Eric deflates, knows that his ire is not with Evey, is not with this girl, woman, creature of strength in front of him. She is a girl no longer. She is more than that. She is the antithesis of Sampson, with her hair, her fear is also gone. And without that fear, only strength remains. He wonders what happened to her, what has occurred between this moment and the moment he saw her last, running from him and Dominic in a sea of frightened people. Somewhere, somehow she has been stripped away and remade, stronger for the breaking. He wonders if V did that to her. And how desperately they’ll need such strength in the continuing struggle that lies ahead.  
  
His thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of his phone. It is Dominic and Eric is reminded that the chaos and questions do not only lie in his mind.  
  
“Finch,” he answers. Dominic reports as if it is any other day, any other crime scene, as if the entire country is the crime scene. He is obviously in shock, but that does not mean that he is wrong. Dominic reports and a plan emerges in Eric’s mind. Sutler and Creedy and their respective personal guards cannot be located. Parliament is nothing but a pile of ash and metal and rock. There are thousands upon thousands of people, what looks to be nearly entire population of the city, currently donning Guy Fawkes masks, standing, watching, waiting for what comes next.  
  
Those people, those masses are not waiting for details, they are not waiting for a step by step plan. They are waiting to be assured of their victory. And then to be told how to exist and choose and speak again now that there is no longer need to fear Sutler’s anger. They need to be relearn how to live. And Eric knows just the person for the job. If she’ll take it that is.  
  
When he turns back to Evey, her gaze is toward the permanently changed skyline and she is smiling. He has a sudden, irrational hope that this is not the last time he’ll see her like this. He takes a moment to compartmentalize these feelings, he will remember how to feel again later. Now he has a job to do.  
  
“I apologize for my rudeness and I ask your forgiveness. But that is not all. There are thousands of people down there. Thousands of people who have spent years being told what they can and cannot do and say. Years defined by death and fear and endless terrifying consequences that led them to those lessons. Parliament is gone, but they cannot, will not believe until Sutler’s face does not appear. Until someone tells them that they have won and now is the time to, how did you put it, no more cowering, now they get to live. Will you tell them, Evey?,” Eric does not know where the words come from, the dedication to see this through, but it is there and he will not, cannot ignore it.  
  
A bark of laughter and an ever widening smile is not the reaction he expected at all. But he cannot deny the satisfaction that comes from bringing that look to her face.  
  
“Why, Mr. Finch, I thought I was recruiting _you_.” He cannot help but answer her smile.  
  
“My name is Eric,” he returns and her smile does not waver as she reaches out her hand and takes his. She leads him back through V’s hideout and into the world. He does not know how the country will continue, rebuild, recreate itself in light of these new truths. The only thing he does know is that if this new world includes confident smiles and surprised laughter, then it is already better than the last.

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to apologize for the lack of Britishisms. I am very very American and it turns out that my version of how they speak in England is simply to not use contractions. Apologies for that. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy, dear Yuletide Prompter. I hope your holiday is full of love and good cheer!
> 
> Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be, blah blah woof woof.


End file.
